


Someday Maybe

by eversinceniall



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 21:39:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17885675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eversinceniall/pseuds/eversinceniall
Summary: "Um, just to clarify that you mean what i think you mean," Louis says, leaning up on his elbow, "You’re talking about us hooking up, right?"Harry nods his head slowly, biting the inside of his cheek as he mirrors Louis' position. "That was what i was talking about, yes." he says, the dimples in his cheeks making a grand appearance as he tries and fails to hide a smile.or, Harry and Louis start having casual sex on tour. which would be fine, if Louis knew the meaning of the word casual, and wasn't hopelessly in love with his best friend.+ set in early 2015 +





	Someday Maybe

Louis is stressed. 

Which isn't an abnormal thing for him to be when they're touring but he's usually not this level of stressed out, especially when tour's just started. Not to mention, he's also usually better at handling it.

The fact that he's been doing a piss poor job of keeping his emotions in check is made blatantly clear when Harry knocks on his hotel room door late that night. He's got that look on his face, the one that screams serious. He's  always been shitty at hiding the way he feels, or maybe Louis has just gotten good at reading him. Either way, it's obvious he wants to talk, and Louis already knows it's about his pissy attitude. He's been snapping at the boys left and right for absolutely no reason at all.

"Harold," Louis says in greeting, stepping aside to let Harry into the room.

Harry is quick to make himself comfortable, flopping down on the bed and spreading out. He looks similar to a starfish, his limbs stretching in every direction. Louis stares at him for a second, unsure whether he should stand there or lay down next to the wavy haired boy. He chooses the latter, making sure to keep a safe distance between their bodies.

He tucks his arms under his head, stares up at the chips in paint on the ceiling and waits for Harry to open his big mouth and speak. He can feel the heat radiating off Harry's body beside him, and as much as he tries to ignore it, it seems he only notices it that much more.

Harry sighs deeply, the sound seeming to echo throughout the room. "You've  been a downright ass lately," he says finally, turning his head to meet louis' eyes. His words are full of concern and nothing more.

Louis swallows, keeping his eyes locked with Harry's emerald ones. He hates making Harry worry, but he can't even deny that statement. He's been a pest the past few weeks and Harry can see right through him, tell that there's something deeper going on. "Yes, I'm aware."

"Why?" Harry asks, searching his eyes like he'll find the answer there. He looks so worried, his forehead creased and eyebrows drawn together. Louis resists the urge to reach forward and smooth the lines out with his fingers. That's not something friends do, right? It's hard to remember sometimes when he's with Harry, but he's pretty sure he wouldn't do that with Liam, Zayn, or Niall.

No, definitely not.

"Just stressed, I guess," he says with a short laugh.

Harry sits up, crossing his legs. "What else?" He asks, pinning Louis with one of those intense stares of his.

"Nothing else," Louis says, "I'm fine."

Harry still doesn't look convinced, so he reaches out across the mattress until he feels harry's hand under his own. He turns harry's hand over and presses their palms together, taking note of the difference in size. He'll never get over how much Harry has grown over the past few years because he can still remember when he was small, shorter than Louis and practically a baby. But, he kind of likes the way they are now, and how he has to stand on the tips of his toes to hug Harry properly.

"Hey," he says, tangling their fingers together, and ignoring the voice in his head shouting that it isn't normal, that friends don't do this. "I'm fine, Haz, really. You don't have to worry about me. You know I would tell you if something was wrong."

Harry seems to relax at that, the tension leaving his shoulders and his face morphing into something soft as he looks at Louis. He lies back on the bed again with a gentle sigh, but he doesn't let go of Louis' hand.

"I just worry about you," he confesses, cheeks a little pink like he's embarrassed about being such a worry wart. Louis doesn't mind though, because he knows that's just the way Harry is. He's a kind person, and he cares about his friends. "I wanted to make sure you're okay."

"I know. And I am. I'm okay, I promise." He gives Harry's hand a reassuring squeeze, feeling warm all over when Harry gives a little squeeze back.

They're silent for a short while, but it's not uncomfortable for the most part. Harry is looking at him, seeming to study his face for no reason whatsoever, and Louis tries not to squirm under his gaze. Harry's stare can be a bit intense sometimes, and now is one of those times.

"What are you thinking about?" Louis asks.

"I was just wondering why you've been such an ass to me lately. I thought I was the exception to your bitchy side," Harry says, but his tone is playful.

Louis shrugs, "Well, you know... just felt like you deserved it."

He knows that despite Harry's playful tone he probably wants a real answer, a justified reason, but Louis doesn't have one. It's just - it's harder this time around. He's been dealing with these feelings he has for Harry for the entirety of the time they've known each other, but it's never been this hard before and he doesn't know why it suddenly is. Maybe it's because he's tired of feeling like he's going to burst with the amount of love he has to hold inside, or maybe it's because he's just tired of hiding the way he feels, tired of secrets. Whatever the reason, it's taking a toll on him.

Tour is hard on its own, but combined with all the other complicated emotions he struggles with on a daily basis, it's been hell. They've only been on the road for a little over two weeks but he already wants it to be over. And he wasn't lying when he told Harry he's fine because he is. Sure, he's stressed, but it's nothing he won't get over. He'll get out of whatever funk he's been in lately, and things will get better because they can't really get much worse, can they?

"Hmm, maybe it's because you haven't been getting laid regularly anymore," Harry jokes, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

Louis knows that Harry's just messing around, but he can't help but grimace anyway, thinking about his now ex-girlfriend Eleanor. They'd ended it about a week prior, right after tour started. It was a mutual decision but his heart still aches a little when he thinks about it. He might not've loved Eleanor the way he should have, but she'd been a part of his life for four years and it's always hard to let go of someone you used to love.

He hasn't had the chance to tell the boys yet. It's not like he's avoiding the topic; he just doesn't see why everyone should be informed of his failed relationship. They'll find out eventually, so why should it matter when? Now is probably as good a time as ever to tell Harry, though.

"I mean, El and I, we broke up." Louis admits, watching for harry's reaction.

Harry's eyes get a little wider, but other than that he stays relatively calm. He's good at staying casual, and Louis is thankful for that. Other than the fact that it's no one's business but his, one of the main reasons he hasn't told anyone about his and Eleanor's split is because he'd like to avoid the big fuss he knows they'll make.

"Why?" Harry asks, a question he was already expecting.

Because even though I loved her, I still kept wishing she was you is the first thing that pops into his head, but that isn't exactly an appropriate response, so he offers the alternative truth instead. "We just grew apart. We didn't have much in common anymore and it didn't feel right. So we both agreed it was time to end things."

"I'm sorry," Harry says, sounding genuinely sympathetic. He gives a soft smile and runs his thumb across the back of Louis' hand in a gentle motion. It's clearly just a gesture of comfort, but the small touch makes Louis' stomach jump with butterflies.

"It's okay," Louis says, "I think that our relationship had just, y'know, run its course."

"So does this mean you won't be getting laid?" Harry asks with an over-exaggerated wink.

It's such an obvious way to change the topic, but Louis is kind of really grateful for it. He loves that harry can tell when he's getting uncomfortable and has no problem changing the subject instead of trying to pry more information out of him like others might.

"Well yeah, s'not like I'll really have the time for it. Unless I'm having a secret affair with one of the boys that you don't know about," he waggles his eyebrows up and down playfully.

Harry scoffs, like the idea is utterly ridiculous. Which, it kind of is. "Yeah right, like you would fuck any of the boys."

"Uh, Niall and I are in love, excuse you. We do not fuck, we make love." He holds a hand over his heart for dramatic effect.

Harry just grins down at him like he's a dork, but Louis knows it's his 'fond smile' that he always denies the existence of.

There's a moment where they're both silent, Harry laying back on the bed beside Louis once more because he's a fidgety motherfucker who can never stay still for longer than five minutes. He's got that look on his face that he always gets when he's thinking hard about something, so Louis closes his tired eyes and waits patiently for harry to voice whatever's on his mind.

"You know, you and I could always...." Harry trails off, like he's not sure whether he should finish that sentence or not.

"We could what?" Louis asks, not understanding what Harry's trying to say because unfortunately, he does not have the ability to read minds. He peeks one eye open to look at the boy beside him, and finds him already looking back.

Harry gestures between the two of them like Louis is supposed to know what he's on about. God, Harry has to be the most vague person Louis has ever met. He tries to think about their conversation prior to jokes about boning Niall, and then it dawns on him.

"Are you serious?" He asks a little unsteadily because this has to be a joke, right? Harry's not suggesting what Louis thinks he's suggesting, is he?

"Well, yeah. I am." There's a lightness to his words but it's clear that he really is serious and wow, okay, Louis is stunned. How does one deal with this sort of situation?

"Uh, just to clarify that you mean what I think you mean," Louis says, leaning up on his elbow, "You're talking about us hooking up, right?"

Harry nods his head slowly, biting the inside of his cheek as he mirrors Louis' position. "That was what I was talking about, yes." He says, the dimples in his cheeks making a grand appearance as he tries and fails to hide a smile.

And fuck, that's not fair. Why does Harry get to be so calm and collected while suggesting something that has Louis feeling like a nervous wreck? What's even more unfair are those dimples. Louis may or may not have a soft spot for those dimples. Or, you know, every single thing about Harry from his head to his toes.

"What the fuck?" He murmurs, more to himself than anything else. He sounds distraught even to his own ears, and he's a little tempted to pinch himself just to make sure he isn't dreaming, no matter how stupid it may make him look.

Harry looks slightly alarmed by his tone. "Lou, are you okay? I didn't mean to like, offend you or anything. It was just a suggestion."

Sure, it might have just been a suggestion to Harry, but to Louis it feels like a really big deal. It's not everyday that the person you've been pining after for the past five years suggests the possibility of the two of you hooking up. What if it's a pity offer? God, Louis really hopes it isn't a pity offer because that would mean Harry feels bad enough about Louis' breakup to offer his body as a means of comfort.

"I - um..." Never before in his life has Louis been at a total loss on what to say, always having a quick response on the tip of his tongue, but right now he's completely speechless. "I'm okay, not offended," he manages to squeeze out finally. "I'm just confused. I mean, you're not saying this because you pity me, are you?"

Harry looks a little offended. "You know I wouldn't do that."

"Then why?"

"Well you're single now, and I am, too. I don't know what you think about me, but like, I think you're really fucking attractive. And it wouldn't mean anything, y'know? Just a little casual sex between friends," Harry explains, toying with the rings on his fingers.

Louis stares at him, his cheeks a little hot, because Harry thinks he's really fucking attractive, and he doesn't know what to make of that. He feels a lot like a school girl getting asked out by her crush, and he hopes it isn't too obvious.

Suddenly, Harry leans over into his space, and he's so close that Louis' breath almost hitches in his throat. Almost. He likes to think he's gotten pretty good at controlling himself when Harry gets a little too close, at making sure he doesn't let on to just how affected he is by Harry's presence, but now Harry's half on top of him, pressing Louis into the mattress and he's offering.

So yeah, control is kind of a hard concept to grasp at the moment.

"Do you want me to kiss you?" Harry asks, emerald eyes impossibly wide as he looks down at Louis. He's - god, he's so beautiful. It should just be a fact at this point because how can anyone possibly look at Harry and think he's anything but gorgeous?

"I don't know if it's a good idea," Louis says softly, but he lets himself stare at Harry for a moment, the kind of admiring he rarely allows himself to indulge in. He soaks up every detail; Harry's bright green eyes filled with patience as he awaits an answer, and the curls hanging in his face, and his lips looking pink as ever and oh so kissable. His gaze seems to get caught there, on the mouth he's dreamt of tasting since he was eighteen years old. It's been five years and Louis doesn't know if he'll ever get another opportunity like this.

He knows that it isn't a good idea to agree to this, he does. He knows that this entire thing is completely self-indulgent and will inevitably end in pain and suffering for him only, but. But he doesn't fucking care, okay? He should - he should be allowed this, right? Just a taste, a glimpse into a life where Harry is his, that's all this is. Louis deserves this. He does.

With that thought in mind, he finds himself nodding before he can worry about the consequences any further. See, control is a hard concept to grasp when Harry's looking like that, and it's not like he's ever had much control when it comes to Harry anyway. 

"Yes," Louis manages to say, looking up into harry's eyes, "Please, kiss me."

He feels his face flush once more, this time with embarrassment. Can he be any more obvious about how much he wants this? The answer is no, probably not.

"Are you sure?" Harry teases with a smirk.

Louis rolls his eyes and surges upwards, connecting their lips on his own because he's way too impatient to get Harry's mouth on his. And god, oh god, it's better than he ever could have imagined.

Harry tastes like a combination of mint and honey, and he kisses Louis like he already knows exactly how he likes to be kissed. His lips are just as soft as Louis has always thought they would be, and now that he's had a taste, he knows there will never be anything better.

He tangles one hand in Harry's hair, carding his fingers through the silky waves that he's grown to love so much, and rests his other hand on the small of Harry's back, feeling the smooth skin beneath his fingertips.

Harry leans over more, tilting his head to kiss Louis at a different angle, and allowing his tongue to slip inside of Louis' mouth. All Louis can think is finally as their tongues touch for the first time, and he lets out a little moan that he's only slightly embarrassed about. He doesn't have much time to feel embarrassed though, because he loses all train of thought when he feels Harry's hand sliding underneath the hem of his shirt and running along the expanse of his chest.

His hand slides out of Harry's hair, and down to the back of his neck to pull him in closer. The drag of their mouths has his heart racing and his skin flushed and he never wants to stop.

It's all so new, and yet it's strange, how normal this feels. A few minutes ago, he and Harry had never kissed, and now they're kissing like they've been doing it forever.

It's definitely not normal how naturally they can go from best mates to best mates who kiss, but really, Louis should have known it would be like this. Things between he and Harry have always come easily, so it's not a surprise that this does, too.

Harry's mouth is warm and slick, and when his tongue curls around Louis', he thinks he might fall even harder for the boy hovering over him. Everything about Harry is perfect, from his smile to his laugh, and his kind nature. And of course, the way in which he kisses.

He's just about ready to shut his brain off and get lost in Harry Styles and the miracle that are his lips, but then Harry whispers, "I love you," into the space between them, and suddenly Louis finds it a little harder to breathe.

He knows what Harry means, and how exactly he means it, but he's not sure if that makes it easier or harder to deal with the part of him that would like to entertain the idea that Harry means it in an entirely different way. He wishes he could just let himself believe Harry loves him the way he wants him to, if only for a moment, but the truth is lingering in the back of his head, a cold and harsh reminder that no matter how much you wish for some things, they just don't happen.

He can't help but get choked up for a moment, because they're kissing and Harry is telling Louis he loves him. Saying things like 'I love you' in friendly ways while doing not so friend-like things should not be allowed, because all it's succeeded in doing is reminding Louis how significant this moment is to him, and insignificant it is to Harry.

"I love you, too," Louis whispers hastily, pressing further into Harry's touch. He latches their mouths together in a frenzied kiss, and when they separate he murmurs words that hold a much deeper meaning than Harry will ever know. "I love you so much, H."

Harry looks at him with those big eyes of his, pupils blown out wide and lips a lovely shade of red. Louis thinks he'd like to see harry like this for the rest of his life, his mouth all puffy and eyes filled to the brim with a mix of both lust and adoration. It's a look he knows he'll never be able to forget.

Harry's gaze is hungry as he looks Louis over, eyes trailing his body up and down before settling back on his face. "You sure you want to do this?" He asks, because he's a gentleman always.

And now would be the perfect time to stop, to really think about the consequences of what he's about to do and the effects it'll have on him later. But he doesn't do any of that, because he's high on the taste of harryharryharry, and he's already too far gone to turn back now.

He settles his hand on Harry's smooth cheek, and nods. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure."

**

After sleeping together for the first time, Louis wholeheartedly expects their relationship to change. He and Harry have always been so close, their friendship knowing no bounds, but adding sex to the equation will surely disrupt the order of things, right?

Except it doesn't, and that alone kind of throws him for a loop. He'd been under the impression that there would be an awkwardness between he and Harry afterwards, but there hasn't been. In fact, things have stayed relatively the same.

Well, that's not entirely truthful. Some things are different, but they're changes for the better. Over the following week he and Harry seem to have grown even closer than they were before, which is something because he didn't think that was even possible. He figures it's the kind of closeness you can only have after you've seen someone naked, and exposed in their most vulnerable state.

The thing he least expects, however, is that he and Harry will hook up again. But it happens. Again, and again, and again. It happens so many times that Louis quickly loses count, getting lost in Harry's arms, and his touch, and his lips. And suddenly it's a Thing.

It's not like he's started noticing Harry more now than he did before, but something has definitely changed. Louis has always been a little too aware of where Harry is in a room or out on stage, but now it's almost like he's hyperaware, always knowing where Harry is at because he just can't tear his eyes away from him.

It seems that Harry is everywhere all at once, flooding every single one of his senses and making him abandon all logical thought. Logic is telling him how dangerous this is, and logic is telling him to stop this before he gets seriously hurt, but then Harry smiles at him from across the stage, and he tunes everything else out as his cheeks flush and that warm, tingly feeling washes over him.

Every time he begins to doubt the situation he's in, Harry is there to distract him, whether that be by pushing him up against the wall in their dressing room and kissing him breathless, or discreetly brushing their hands together when he passes by Louis on stage.

They've always had a very tactile relationship, but Louis has often wondered if most of the touching has been on his part, if it's only him who can't keep his hands to himself. Lately, though, he's had no reason to wonder about that, because Harry is always touching him in some way, an arm wrapped around his waist, or a hand resting casually on Louis' hip.

It's like friendship times one hundred, and Louis is a little overwhelmed, to be honest. It's a lot to process and get used to in such a small amount of time, but he's not complaining, definitely not. He's just not used to this, to being able to reach out and touch Harry whenever he wants, no explanation necessary, and have that touch be so easily accepted and reciprocated.

And it's fucking great, it truly is, but at the same time it's like Louis is caught in some strange sort of limbo. Because now that he can touch, it's hard to remember that sometimes he just shouldn't.

They're not - they aren't a couple. The days are quickly blurring together until the only thing he can remember about each specific date is Harry, and that wink he gave Louis during soundcheck, or the sneaky little glances he cast Louis' way in one of their interviews. It feels a lot like a relationship, and so it's easy to forget that it's not.

They're not in a relationship of any kind. They're friends. Friends, who sleep together, yes, but still just friends.

And so Louis has to stop himself from doing things that friends don't do, like reaching out and tucking a curl behind Harry's ear, or rubbing his thumb across the line of Harry's jaw just because he wants to, because it's instinct.

He needs to set limits, lines that he can't cross. He needs to learn to control himself, because behavior like this is only going to make it that much harder when this thing with Harry comes to an inevitable end.

It's all easier said than done, though. It always is. 

**  
It's become a bit of a habit in the past couple weeks for Harry and Louis to rush to their shared dressing room immediately after a show is over and spend their time kissing and doing whatever else they can manage before someone comes looking for them.

Today is no different.

Harry pushes him against the wall as soon as the door is shut behind them, his mouth finding its way to Louis' neck and leaving a trail of kisses from there down to his collarbones.

Louis giggles - because apparently that's something he does now - and pushes Harry away for a second just to catch his breath. "All this time we've been friends and I had no idea you were such a horndog."

"I'm not a horndog," Harry protests, "I just can't get enough of you."

"Don't worry love, I'm not complaining. I think this is the most sex I've had in years."

"That's a shame," Harry says, leaning in close again. "How about we have some more?" His hand slides down Louis' body and inches under the band of his skinny jeans. 

"Okay," Louis agrees absentmindedly, all of his thoughts focused on how pink and delicious Harry's lips look and his veins thrumming with the anticipation of having Harry inside of him again. He might just be a bigger horndog than Harry is. 

He cups the back of Harry's neck with his hand and pulls him in until their bodies are pressed together. Harry's pupils are dilated, his eyes filled with that lustful look that Louis has come to know so well. He can't resist any longer and allows their mouths to come together, lips saying what they cannot voice.

He wraps a few locks of Harry's wavy hair around his fingers, giving a little tug. If there's one thing Louis has learned over the past few weeks, it's that Harry goes absolutely wild when you pull his hair.

And Harry doesn't fail to respond, moaning into Louis' mouth and his fingers tightening their grip on Louis' sides.

He slides his hands down to Harry's ass - small but firm - and gives it a little squeeze before pulling back after one last kiss. 

"I wanna suck you off," he says, looking up at Harry from under his eyelashes because he knows it drives him crazy. Harry always says he has eyelashes to die for, perfectly long and thick even without the use of makeup. Louis thinks he has a lot of weird kinks.

Harry gives him another kiss, deep and passionate, before allowing him to drop to his knees and begin the struggle that is removing the belt on Harry's jeans. 

He doesn't understand why Harry feels the need to wear a belt when his jeans are already so tightly glued to his body, but oh well.

He's just gotten the belt off and is about to tug Harry's jeans down and suck his beautiful cock when all of a sudden the door opens and Liam is standing there with a confused and slightly disturbed look on his face.

Louis freezes, imagining just how incriminating this must look from Liam's point of view, with Harry standing over him while he sits on his knees and toys with Harry's zipper. He and Harry share an oh shit, we're fucked glance. 

"Oh my god," Liam splutters, quickly shutting the door behind him. "Are you two-"

"No!" Louis and Harry shout at the same time, and Louis immediately gets to his feet, feeling his face flush with heat.

"Trust me, it is not what it looks like," Louis says, somehow managing to speak calmly, "I was just helping Harry out."

Liam hesitates, "You were helping him out... by sucking his dick?"

"No!" Louis rolls his eyes as if the mere thought is ridiculous. "You see, Harry's zipper was stuck, and being the kind person I am, I offered to help."

Harry snickers from behind him and Louis gives him a warning glare.

"Why'd you have to get on your knees to do that?" Liam questions. 

"I needed to get a closer look. I'm old, Liam, my eyesight isn't what it used to be," Louis jokes.

There's a few moments of silence where Liam looks at them blankly, and just as Louis is beginning to think that Liam isn't gonna fall for it, he speaks.

"I guess that makes sense," he says slowly, but he's still giving them a suspicious look. "You guys are weird."

Louis acts offended. "I'm weird for wanting to help my good friend Harold here with his struggle? You're the weird one for thinking that we're weird." 

"If it were anyone else I'd think you were bullshitting me. But you and Harry have always been oddly close... so it's really not that hard to believe." Liam gestures at the door, "I'm gonna go find Niall. Have fun with -" He waves his hand "- whatever this is."

Louis and Harry burst into laughter as soon as he's gone. "I can't believe we got away with that," Louis exclaims, stifling his laughter into his hand. 

"Oh god, I know," Harry giggles, "Either we're really fucking convincing or Liam is dense."

"What do you mean 'we'? I did all the convincing while you stood there gaping like a fish." 

"I'm sorry!" Harry says, "I got nervous, you know I'm not a good liar. But you did really good coming up with something on the spot like that."

"This is why I should be an actor. I'm a natural at it. Lying comes easy to me."

Harry snakes his arms around Louis' waist. "Just don't lie to me."

"I could never," Louis smiles, standing on his tiptoes to press a kiss to Harry's lips. "Now, where were we?" 

**

Louis is sick. So sick, in fact, that he's pretty sure he's going to die. Okay, maybe that's a slight exaggeration, but still. It hurts.

He'd went to bed the previous night with a sore throat, and woke up with a serious case of the coughs and a raging headache. Life is very unfair like that.

It's not like they can cancel their show that night just because Louis is sick though, so he's forced to bear through the pain. It's nothing he hasn't done before but that doesn't mean he enjoys it. He finds himself going through the motions on stage, singing his solos when it's his turn, and daydreaming about a warm bed and the comforts of sleep the rest of the time.

Time drags on, and the show seems to last an eternity. Louis doesn't know if it's possible, but he thinks time might be going by as slowly as possible just to spite him.

When the show finally ends, Louis is quick to find his hotel room. As soon as the door clicks closed behind him he's stripping out of his clothes and getting lost in the soft sheets.

One of the worst parts of being sick is the fatigue, getting tired from doing even the littlest of things. Even though it was just a normal day on tour, he feels like he could sleep for a good fifteen hours straight, and that's exactly what he intends on doing until there's a knock on his hotel room door.

"Louis?" A familiar voice calls and Louis sighs as he recognizes the voice as Harry's. He's glad it's Harry and not someone else for a total of two reasons. One, he was dreading the thought of having to get out of bed to answer the door, and two, there's literally no one else he'd rather see right now than Harry.

"Come in!" He calls back, collapsing into a fit of coughing immediately afterwards.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Harry asks, his forehead creased with worry as he approaches the bed, looking Louis over.

"I thought it was obvious," Louis says when Harry takes a seat on the edge of the bed beside him. "I feel like utter shit. Can't you tell by looking at me?"

"Nah," Harry presses the back of his hand to Louis' forehead, checking for a fever. "You look beautiful. Even when you're sick."

Louis can feel his skin flush hot under Harry's touch, but if Harry notices the effect his words have, he doesn't say anything. Louis probably would have blamed it on the sickness anyway.

"You're the beautiful one," he murmurs, and he's not the kind of person who can hand out compliments without feeling awkward about it, but this time he doesn't care. It's worth it just to see the smile that lights up Harry's face, the way his eyes crinkle slightly at the corners.

"Thank you," Harry says, words coming out in a hushed whisper as he leans down to press a gentle kiss to Louis' lips.

Louis sighs into his mouth, all the tension leaving his body. He loves kisses like these the most, ones with no intent to do anything more behind them. Just a sweet, simple kiss that makes his heart soar.

He cuts it short before he can get too carried away, because he could kiss Harry like that all night, slow and lingering and wonderful. And that's not a good idea right now.

"Shouldn't kiss me. You'll get sick, too." Louis tells him.

"I don't care," Harry says defiantly, like the little rebel he is, and presses another kiss to Louis' lips. He plants one on each of Louis' cheeks, and then to the tip of his nose, the softest yet.

Louis giggles - something he's been doing a lot of lately - and bats Harry away, as if he's bothered. Harry stops with a final kiss to both of Louis' eyelids, grinning down at him, and Louis thinks that's something he probably shouldn't get used to; to Harry looking at him like that with his eyes the color of the forest trees. But it's hard not to.

He reaches his hand out to run his thumb across the line of Harry's cheekbone, because his skin is always so soft and Louis is weak for him.

"I'll bet you make a great boyfriend," Louis says, voicing his thoughts aloud.

"Yeah? You think so?" Harry asks, his eyes bright, and Jesus Christ, did he just nuzzle his face into Louis' hand?

"Definitely," Louis says, tracing a heart on Harry's cheek with the tip of his finger. "You're a sweetheart. And a total sap."

"Heeey," Harry protests, but he doesn't argue any further because they both know Louis is right. "You are, too. And you're lots of fun as well."

"Am I fun, or is it the sex that's fun?" Louis teases.

"Well, the sex is fun," Harry agrees, "But just hanging out with you is one of my favorite things to do. You're my best friend, so it's always a fun time when we're together."

"Really?" Louis asks doubtfully. "Even when I'm sick?"

"Especially when you're sick." He runs a hand through Louis' hair. "It means I get to take care of you."

It's such a sweet thing to say, but Louis tries not to read too much into it. "I'll bet you wouldn't be saying that if I was throwing up."

Harry crawls over Louis' form to get to the other side of the bed and slips under the covers. "Yes, I would."

"You really shouldn't stay here with me," Louis says suddenly, flipping over onto his side to watch Harry make himself comfortable. "I don't want to get you sick. Then who will take care of me?"

"Liam could. But I'm starting to think you just don't want me," Harry says with a cute little pout. He fluffs his pillow up and tucks it under his head.

Louis knows Harry's just playing around, but he says what he's thinking anyway because he never has any filter when it comes to the important stuff. "I always want you."

Harry smiles his designated 'fond smile' and Louis thinks he looks absolutely gorgeous lying there, with his cheek pressed to the pillow and hair splayed out around him.

"Me, too," he says, and then takes Louis' hand in his, lacing their fingers together.

They've been holding hands for as long as they've known each other, and it's never been weird before, but something feels different this time. And there's the possibility that it's all in Louis' head, but the nagging in his gut won't leave.

He lifts his and Harry's connected hands up to his face so that he can study the rings that adorn Harry's fingers. He's sure he's seen them all a million times before, but that hasn't lessened his love for them.

He doesn't really think about what he's doing when he leans down and presses his lips to Harry's knuckles, but it feels right. He glances up to find Harry watching him with an indescribable look on his face. Their eyes meet and their gazes lock and hold for three beautiful seconds. But then Harry clears his throat, pulls his hand from Louis' grip, and the moment is gone.

"You must be tired," Harry says, "We should get some sleep."

"Yeah, yeah," Louis mumbles, reaching out to turn the lamp on his bedside table off.

Now engulfed in darkness, Louis pulls the blankets up to his shoulders and tries to relax. The room is quiet, save for the sound of Harry's steady breathing beside him, but Louis can't sleep. It's ironic, considering how tired he was a mere half hour ago.

"Hey, can we cuddle?" Louis whispers into the silent room because he always feels better in Harry's arms.

There's a shuffling as Harry turns around, and then there's a beautiful boy inches from his face, green eyes seeming to glow in the darkness. "I wasn't sure if you wanted to," Harry admits, and he gestures for Louis to move closer, so he does.

"I always wanna cuddle with you," Louis says, pecking Harry on the cheek. He turns around so that his back is pressed against Harry's chest, and sighs when he feels an arm wrap around his waist, a hand splayed on his stomach. He's used to being the big spoon, but being the little spoon is quite nice, too.

He closes his eyes, and tries to focus on nothing but how comfortable and relaxed he is right now in Harry's arms. Normally this would be enough to send him spiraling into sleep, but tonight it doesn't seem to work. Instead all he can do is think about Harry, and this situation he's gotten himself into because he couldn't just say no, because he's a lovesick fool.

He lies there for what must be twenty or so minutes, huffing a sigh of frustration at his failure to fall asleep. Thinking he might need a change of position, he shifts around in Harry's embrace until he's lying on his opposite side, face to face with the boy across from him. As expected, Harry's eyes are shut, his long eyelashes fanning out onto his cheeks as he sleeps soundly.

Louis heaves another sigh, though this time it's less of frustration, and more of awe. He doesn't know if a day will go by where he isn't amazed by how beautiful Harry is, and not just in the physical aspect. His kindness, his generosity, and his caring nature are only a few of the things that make him so great, because there are layers upon layers of depth to his personality, both good and bad. And Louis loves every single one of them.

He reaches out and begins to trace the outline of Harry's lips, making sure to keep the touch light as not to wake him. This is probably considered at least a little creepy, but hey, these moments are precious and he wants to take full advantage of them.

From his time spent being more than friends and less than lovers with Harry, he's positive this is what he's going to remember the most; the way Harry looks when he's sleeping, the peaceful expression on his face that makes him look like that innocent sixteen year old boy again. Louis never wants to forget it, to memorize it until thirty years from now when he's married and has children with someone else, he'll still be able to close his eyes and see that image of Harry behind his eyelids.

The thought of marrying and having children with someone who isn't Harry is a little painful, but maybe one day it won't be. Maybe one day he'll be able to give his heart to someone else. Maybe one day he won't look at Harry and feel this all consuming love. Maybe one day, but not today.

He's often heard that people in love tend to idolize the person they're interested in, ignoring their flaws and only focusing on their good qualities. And maybe Louis is doing that too, but nonetheless, he thinks it should just be common sense that Harry Styles is closer to perfection than anyone else will ever get. Then again, that could be the love talking.

And suddenly he pauses in his movements, his hand falling from Harry's face, because for the past few minutes he's been referring to himself as someone who's in love.

Fuck.

Despite the panic swelling in his chest, he knows it's true. For the first time in five years, he can admit that he's in love with Harry Styles, and somehow the acceptance that comes with it is enough to almost completely wash away the anxiety.

It's not like it's the first time he's thought about it or even considered the possibility. The idea has crossed his mind several times over the years, but most of the time it was just a fleeting thought he could easily brush aside because he didn't want to deal with the consequences that admitting it would bring.

But now, lying here listening to Harry's slow and even breaths, he can't deny it anymore. He can't brush it off, or dismiss it as mindless attraction this time. Not when a simple glance at Harry out of the corner of his eye has his pulse racing and his heart beating faster, overwhelmed with emotion. Not when he's never been more sure of anything in his life. 

"I love you," he whispers, in wonder of how the words will sound out loud, now with a brand new meaning. For a moment he worries Harry might wake up, so he breathes a little sigh of relief when he remembers Harry is a deep sleeper.

He laughs, quiet and contained, the sound slipping out before he can stop it. Bitterness threatens to overcome him, but the feeling of Harry's soft skin beneath his fingertips is enough to anchor him.

And god, what is this awful feeling? It's like his heart is just fucking aching, for no good reason at all.

It's a strange kind of longing, to know that the object of your affections is right there in front of you, and although you can hold them in your arms you'll never hold their heart.

"I don't know when or how, but I am. It just kind of happened." He presses further into Harry's embrace, until he's burning up from the weight of the blankets and the heat radiating off Harry's body, but he doesn't care. He just snuggles closer, his nose brushing against the top of Harry's collarbones. It's risky, this, because Harry could wake up any moment and hear every single word falling from Louis' lips, but Louis doesn't care. Hell, maybe he even hopes Harry will.

This past month they've spent together doing whatever the fuck it is they've been doing has been one of the best months of his life, but he wants more. He used to think that he would take Harry in any way he could, but he's realized that that's not enough. It's not enough to be with him but not be with him.

And he can't keep doing this knowing it's temporary, that one day Harry's going to decide it needs to end, and he'll just have to go along with it. That's why he has to end this before it can get to that point. He sighs shakily, feeling tears roll down his cheeks, and fuck, he's not supposed to be crying over Harry; he's stronger than this. But the fact of the matter is, he really isn't, and goddamnit it hurts.

He doesn't know about Harry, but it was never just casual sex for him. He was head over heels from the beginning and thus it was doomed from the start.

And maybe loving Harry has complicated things, but even if he had the choice to, Louis wouldn't change any of it. Because although it hasn't always been fun, loving Harry is a part of who he is.

"I'm just glad to be a part of your life. So I'll be whatever you want me to be - even if that means being nothing more than your friend - because you make me happy. And I'll do anything to make you happy, too." He whispers, watching Harry's eyelashes flutter as his breath ghosts over them. There's an ache in his chest that threatens to overwhelm him, but he stomps it down for later.

Harry might not know a thing Louis has said tonight but that's okay. This is the closest he'll ever get to telling Harry the truth about his feelings for him, and that has to be enough.

He lets his eyes slip closed and attempts to get lost in the warmth of Harry's embrace now that he's said everything he wanted to say, but there's this persistent feeling of emptiness in his gut. And then comes the familiar burning sensation behind his eyes.

He squeezes his eyes shut tighter to hold in the tears and clenches his teeth, trying to pull it together. He can't fall apart like this, not when he promised himself he wouldn't. But regardless of how hard he tries, the tears manage to find their way from the ducts and trail down his cheeks.

"Fuck," he whispers, biting down hard on his bottom lip. He's never been overwhelmed with so many emotions at once like this, and it's kind of scary. He's torn in pieces, unsure whether he'd like to scream in anger or cry in sadness or laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it all.

He untangles his body from Harry's, crawls out of the bed, and makes his way to the bathroom. He's sliding to the floor as soon as the door is shut behind him, his back against the wall. He doesn't know when his life turned into an angsty movie but here he is. If he wasn't in such an awful state, he might even like to think he's playing the part perfectly.

He takes a deep breath, trying to keep his emotions in check, but those calming breaths soon turn into sobs that force their way out of his throat against his will. This isn't easy, none of this is easy. The movies lied, and the books lied and everyone lied. Falling in love isn't easy, and simple, and carefree like they made it out to be. It's this panicky feeling in the pit of his stomach, and anxiety so bad his hands shake because he's in love. It's being deathly afraid that Harry is going to find out, and at the same time almost wishing he would. It's terrifying and awful and his heart must be racing a mile an hour. And he feels like he might die because real life doesn't have a happy, fairytale ending guarantee, and there's nothing perfect about a one sided love.

And suddenly he can't hold back anymore and tears cascade down his cheeks and drip onto his bare legs. Then he's sobbing, his whole body shaking with the force of it and he cups a hand over his mouth to try to drown out the noise but it's no use.

He's so lost, and he's so dumb. He feels so dumb. This is all his fault, this is all his doing and now he's crying in a hotel bathroom while Harry sleeps right outside like the pathetic mess he is because he acted impulsively, because he went ahead and got himself into a situation he can't handle. And he could blame it on his love for Harry, say "love made me do it" but no, nothing and no one made him agree to this whole arrangement. He knew it wasn't a good idea, he knew, but he still did it despite knowing that because he was greedy.

It's all his fault and he has no one to blame but himself. Louis knows this but he still pities himself because what can he say? He's downright pitiful.

He stays there for a while, lying on the bathroom floor and staring at the ceiling re-evaluating every decision he's made thus far as he sniffles and cries until the tears have dried on his face and his body physically will not let him shed anymore.

"Goddammit," he sighs once the tears have finally come to a stop. He closes his swollen eyes and lies there, just focusing on breathing evenly. 

Louis has been in love before, but he's never been in love like this. It just seems so much more real than anything prior, like the kind of love he could be in for the rest of his life, the kind of love you never tire of, the kind of love that burns passionate forever. 

Louis doesn't think of the future often. He prefers living day to day, taking things as they come, and he treats his relationships much the same way. He never knows if a relationship is going to be forever, if it's all gonna end in marriage and kids, and a beautiful house to live out the rest of their lives together, or if it'll crash and burn and leave his heart aching.

He never worried about that type of thing because he always figured if it was meant to be it would be. But with Harry he can see things like marriage and kids happening so easily. And it's so awful, because he feels this way about the one person he should never feel this way about.

He pulls himself to his feet, feeling weak but trying his hardest to stop thinking about this sad, pathetic situation he's in. It only makes him more depressed.

He accidentally catches a glance of himself in the mirror and grimaces at his swollen, puffy eyes, and red nose making him look like the ugly version of Rudolph. He blows his nose a couple times and tosses the tissues in the trash can before he leaves.

When he exits the bathroom, he's surprised to see Harry sitting upright in bed. His stomach ties itself in knots at the idea that Harry might have heard him crying in there. How loud was he?

"Did I wake you?" He asks worriedly. 

Harry rubs his eyes, looking like a disgruntled toddler awaken from his afternoon nap. "I don't think so. I guess I just sleep better with you by my side. I've gotten kind of accustomed to it, you know?"

Louis wants to ask if that means he can stay by Harry's side forever, but he already knows the answer. 

"Are you okay?" Harry asks, squinting to see him better in the dark. "You kind of look like you've been crying."

"I don't feel too good," Louis admits, "Just the typical side effects of being sick." 

It's not exactly a lie. He is sick, and he doesn't feel good, but Harry doesn't need to know all the reasons for that.

Harry makes a sad face, and holds his arms open for Louis to crawl into. He goes with ease, climbing into Harry's lap and letting the younger boy hold him. 

"Should we go to the hospital?" Harry asks, carding his fingers through Louis' messy hair.

"No, I'll be okay. It's just the flu." Louis replies, wrapping his arms around Harry's middle. "Just hold me for a while?"

"Okay," Harry hums, and presses a gentle kiss into Louis' hair.

Harry rubs his hands up and down Louis' back until the older boy can't help but begin to feel sleepy. Being in Harry's arms is one of the most relaxing things in the world, he's certain of it. 

"I love you," Harry says.

"Me too." Louis whispers back. 

He's going to end this. Soon. But right now he just wants to appreciate the time he has with harry before everything changes.

**

Tonight is the night. 

Tonight is the night that Louis is finally going to break things off with Harry. Except he's been trying to gather up the nerve to go knock on Harry's hotel door for the past hour. 

This isn't as easy as it seemed in his head. He's been pacing the hallways back and forth for at least fifteen minutes and if he doesn't do this soon someone is probably going to call the police on him for suspicious behavior.

He knows what he's gotta do. Knock on the door, say "this isn't working out, let's stop" and then nope the fuck outta there. But he's scared. He's really, truly scared because what if this fucks up his and Harry's friendship? Harry is one of the most important people in his life.

He sighs, looking down the hall both ways to make sure no one is coming around and then knocks on the door, just three quick raps. 

And then he waits. He waits and he waits and he's starting to wonder if maybe Harry's not in there when the door swings open to reveal a half naked Harry with only a plain white towel wrapped around his waist. 

His hair is wet and hanging in his face, and Louis already knows it'll smell like his favorite coconut scented shampoo. He longs to rush forward, to bury his face into the crook of Harry's neck and inhale coconuts, and lavender soap, and just everything that makes Harry Harry. But he can't. He can't do that, because if he does he'll lose his nerve and he can't let his emotions overrule what he knows is the right thing to do. And this is what's right, isn't it?

Harry's lips turn upwards into a smile as soon as he sees who's at his door, allowing Louis a glimpse of pearly white teeth. His smile seems to drop as his eyes scan over Louis' face, taking in his expression, and Louis wonders if he's really that obvious, if his face just screams bad news.

"You okay?" Harry asks, stepping aside and holding the door open for Louis to come inside.

Louis tries for a smile of a reassurance but it comes out awkward and forced, so he just nods instead. You can't mess up with a nod, right?

It's not an abnormal occurrence for Louis to just show up at Harry's hotel room unplanned nowadays, but this time it feels different because Louis knows what he's going to do tonight, and his veins are thrumming with nervous energy. Normally he would make himself comfortable on Harry's bed and start flipping channels on the TV, or immediately throw himself into Harry's arms upon entrance, but now he stops and stands there in the middle of the room, awkwardly playing with the hem of his shirt just to occupy his shaky hands.

When he looks up he finds himself met with Harry's deep green eyes, the worry in them clear. He darts his gaze away, to a spot on the floor somewhere to the left of Harry's feet. 

"I think we need to stop this," he says gently, letting the words out into the world and hoping he doesn't come to regret them.

There's a moment of silence, and Louis is tempted to look up and catch a glimpse of Harry's reaction but he knows it's better if he doesn't. After all, Harry's pretty face is what got him into this mess in the first place.

"Why?" Harry asks, his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. He looks hurt, his mouth pulled down into a deep frown, and Louis' heart aches because he never wants to hurt Harry.

And fuck, Louis has went over what to say a million times, but that's the one question he isn't expecting. A simple 'why' and he's thrown for a loop. He opens his mouth but he has nothing planned and the words that fall from his lips are entirely on accident, a product of having nothing to say and wanting to say something. At least, that's what he tells himself.

"Because I'm in love with you."

Fuck, fuck, fuck. He really just said that, didn't he? After five years of bottling it up and pushing it to the furthest depths of his mind, Harry finally knows the truth about how Louis feels about him, with only six little words spoken.

He can't bear to look up and see the expression on harry's face because he's - well, he's terrified, and so so unprepared. He wasn't planning on making any love confessions today, but he has, and now he doesn't know what to do.

He keeps talking, running his mouth with no real direction or point to make. He just - he feels like he should explain himself. That's what people do when they confess their love, right?

"I've felt this way since like - well, since we met, I think? And I know, I know I should have told you before you got involved with me but I was selfish. I just wanted to be with you in any way I possibly could. That's why I'm ending this thing between us right now. It's not fair to you, or me. I just - I love you so much, and I want you in ways I can't have you. So, I can't do this anymore." He tries to keep his voice steady, but he can't be blamed if there are a few cracks here and there. He's so nervous it's a surprise he hasn't broken down in tears. It's also a good thing he hasn't, because he doesn't need harry to see him crying; he's already pathetic enough as it is.

"Lou," he hears Harry whisper, and he sounds stricken.

"I'm sorry," Louis murmurs, because this is the moment where he'll look up and find Harry staring at him with that genuinely sympathetic expression on his face, ready to tell Louis that he just doesn't love him back. So when he finally lifts his head, he's not expecting to see Harry standing there, eyes wide, with tears streaming down his face, a mirror image of himself.

"Haz?" He asks carefully. He has no idea what to expect right now when this has already taken such a turn from what he'd always imagined would happen in a situation like this. Not that he ever really saw something like this happening because really, who could?

"You're - you're serious?" Harry asks, stepping closer, and the vulnerability Louis sees in his eyes is startling.

He swallows hard, and nods his head. 

And then in a split second Harry is right there in front of him, wrapping himself around Louis like the giant koala he is, burying his face into Louis' neck like he just can't get close enough. He's crying harder than before, harsh sobs right next to Louis' ear and he's holding onto Louis so tight it kind of hurts but he doesn't pull away.

"I love you," Harry cries and Louis braces himself for the but, but it doesn't come. "I love you, I love you." 

He pulls back and cups Louis' face with his hands, green eyes staring into blue. "I love you so fucking much, Lou. Can't you tell? You said that you want me in ways you can't have me but I'm yours. In every fucking way, I'm yours, Louis."

Louis takes a shuddery breath. "I'm so -" His voice cracks and he stops. "This isn't what I was expecting."

Harry laughs, the air from it blowing over Louis' face. "I wasn't expecting any of this. You just broke my heart, and then mended it all in the span of like ten minutes. And it still kind of hurts."

"I'm sorry," Louis says, and then rubs his hand over where his heart is. "And me too. I think I'm in shock. Like I don't think my body can keep up with everything that just happened." He tugs at a strand of Harry's hair. "Is this real?"

Harry gives him a funny look. "My hair?"

"No, life. I mean, is this real life? And not a dream?"

Harry pulls him in, and presses a soft kiss to his lips. "It feels pretty real to me," he murmurs, "and I've dreamt about this a lot, so."

Louis kisses him back, a kiss so sweet it feels like it could be their first. Afterwards they stand there with their foreheads pressed together, soaking up the moment.

"I just wanna hug you," Louis says, so he does. He squeezes harry tight and doesn't let go for a long time.

This still feels like a dream. How did he not see this coming? He's always thought he had a pretty good eye for things, but now he's not so sure. How do you miss out on the fact that your best friend is in love with you? 

"I really love you," Louis murmurs as they sway back and forth. 

"Me too," Harry says with that signature grin of his. And for the one millionth time, butterflies swarm in Louis' stomach.

**  
Hours later they lay cuddled together on the bed, Louis tucked into Harry's side, feeling sleepy and endlessly content.

"H?" Louis whispers, his eyes concentrated on the TV screen. They're watching some movie but he hasn't been paying much attention, too caught up in his thoughts, in this wonderful thing that is now his life.

"Hmm?" Harry asks, his words slurred with sleep.

"Did you know I was in love with you before I told you?" He questions, glancing up at the younger boy. It's a question that's been on his mind for a while now. 

Harry pauses, seeming more alert at Louis' serious question. "I suspected that you might feel something for me other than friendship. We've always been so close, Lou, right from the very beginning. It's always been more for me, and I hoped it was for you, too."

"It was. It is," Louis says, "Even when I was with Eleanor, you were always there in the back of my mind. I know it's fucked up but sometimes I wished she was you instead."

Harry laughs, "That's funny, because I used to wish I was her, too. Just so I could be with you."

That makes Louis feel bad. He knows the past is the past and he can't undo his relationship with Eleanor, but it still saddens him to think that being with Eleanor was hurting Harry. Sometimes it hurt to see pictures of Harry with some pretty girl on the front of tabloids but at least he always knew they were just friends.

Even so, he doesn't regret being with eleanor. She was a good girlfriend and an even better friend. Being with her was a learning experience. It showed him who he really wanted, that even when he was with someone else, Harry was still the only one for him.

"I really love you, you know?" Louis says, crawling into Harry's lap. He loves the way he fits there so perfectly, and how Harry's hands wrap around his waist to hold him securely in place. 

He leans in and starts kissing Harry's neck, sucking and biting a mark where it can't be easily hidden. He makes sure it's enough that makeup can't fully conceal it. Unless harry decides to wear a scarf, the mark will be visible for everyone to see. 

"Heeey, that's gonna be hard to cover up," Harry pouts, but his voice is kind of strained.

"Yes, it is," Louis agrees with a smile because he's evil like that and wants everyone to know that Harry belongs to somebody, even if they don't know it's Louis. "I can't wait to see all the rumors of you having a new girlfriend that'll start from this."

Harry pecks him on the cheek, "Little do they know I have a boyfriend, and he's the cutest." 

Louis tries his hardest not to smile, but he can't contain the giddiness that he feels right now. Harry is just the sweetest person alive. It's sad to think that so many people will never know the wonderful person that is Harry Styles.

"So," Harry starts, biting his lip, "Am I as great of a boyfriend as you thought I'd be?"

"I don't know, can I have a free trial before I commit to anything? You know, just to make sure I actually like you," Louis jokes, to which Harry swats him playfully.

"Heeey," Harry whines again, "Your free trial was the whole month we spent hooking up. You can't cancel now, this is for life."

Louis raises his eyebrows. "For life?"

"Shit. Well, if you want it to be?" Harry asks shyly.

Louis cups Harry's face in both hands and kisses him on the nose. "How could I deny your cute face? Though I wasn't expecting a proposal so soon."

"Trust me, you'll know for sure when it's a proposal." Harry says, scrunching his nose. "I'm very romantic."

"I'm sure you are," Louis says, knowing for a fact that Harry's words are true. He's always been the most romantic of them all, buying flowers and chocolates for his date on the rare occasion that he had one. Harry's just a sweetheart, like the main character of a rom-com that all the girls swoon over. He's almost too good to be true.

"Anyways, judging by the past two hours you've been an excellent boyfriend so far." Louis bats his eyes dramatically, "How about me? Have I lived up to all your expectations?"

"You're better than anything I could have ever wished for," Harry says sincerely.

"You're so cheesy," Louis teases, just to hide the fact that he actually likes it. A lot.

Harry sees right through him like always. "You know you love it."

Louis rolls his eyes, "Unfortunately, I do. I'm in love with an idiot." 

Harry pouts at that, and Louis kisses his puckered lips in response. 

Who knew love could feel this good, this euphoric? Not Louis, that's for sure. With Harry, everything is different. With Harry, everything is a first. And it feels weird, but in a good way. 

Maybe life is like a fairytale with a happy ending guarantee. This certainly feels like a happy ending to Louis. Or maybe it's a happy beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first h & l fic in years and i might write more in this universe if it’s wanted. let me know your thoughts! :)


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